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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699435">the smell of your pastel breathing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha'>eloha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Benn likes calling himself daddy, Breathplay, Cigarettes, Daddy Kink, Dry Humping, Humiliation, M/M, Name-Calling, Neglect, Objectification, Pet Names, Riding, Slut Shaming, Smoking, Worship, but also kinky?, fascination with fire??, smoking kink?, tbh idk, uhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:14:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Benn’s words are a loving caress that turns into icicles breaching skin when he taps the cigarette, ash flowing down like petals onto Shanks’ palm.  </p><p>“Make sure you don’t drop that.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Benn Beckman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the smell of your pastel breathing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm back with another Completely self indulgent Benn x Shanks fic. Really, I don't know what it is about this pairing that calls to that depraved little side of me, but I welcome it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“If you want something why don’t you go about asking for it the right way?” </p><p>Shanks’ grin is all teeth, hooded eyes taking in the man before him- <i>beneath</i> him. </p><p>“Oh Benny,” the redhead croons sweetly, rolling his hips suggestively, “where is the fun in that?” </p><p>Benn scoffs, unamused, whether it’s due to the nickname or the taunt Shanks doesn’t know, but he’ll be damned if he lets this moment pass.  </p><p>“You’re insatiable.” Tone rugged and demeaning, mouth pulled into a thin line to take a drag of the cigarette.  </p><p>His eyes never leave that screen.  </p><p>“Why don’t you look at me?” The words come out in a near whine, and Shanks perks up a little at the twitch of the man’s lips, smoke seeping out the side.  </p><p>“I didn’t ask you to sit on my lap, you did that all on your own.” </p><p>Shanks’ cock gives an interested jump, making his eyes go hooded at the indifference of Benn. </p><p>“So you’re neglecting me now?” Shanks drops some of his weight on the other man’s lap, looking for a flicker of that expression, pouting when he gets nothing. </p><p>It’s clear Benn is enjoying this though, if the hardness of his cock under Shanks’ ass is anything to go by.  </p><p>“Has that ever stopped you?” </p><p>Really, there’s not even anything interesting enough on the television to keep his attention like this. Not with Shanks perched on his lap, looking around the shape of his body instead of at <i>him</i>. He knows he’s doing this on purpose, not paying attention, but that’s what makes it exciting. Knowing that Benn is doing everything possible to ignore Shanks, oh it shouldn’t make him so hot, but he can’t help himself.  </p><p>Shanks sighs on top of Benn, nearly weightless when he shifts his body, straddling one of those delicious thighs. The redhead knew what he was doing, pinning the older one on the couch as soon as he got back from shopping, nothing on his mind but how those crass jeans would feel rubbing against his sweatpants.  </p><p>It was on his mind the entire time his lover was gone. Three eager fingers pressing up against that spot that had him seeing stars, spreading his hole wide just thinking about how those jeans <i>molded</i> around his ass. He was not disappointed; the friction is damn near addicting when Shanks’ hips lurch forward. Benn takes another drag, chest puffing up, watching with enthusiastic eyes at the stretch of muscle.  </p><p>“You’re as easy as ever.” Benn could have recited Shakespeare for all he knew. First time looking at Shanks since he sat on his lap, and that gaze is accompanied by smoke being carelessly blown in his face.  </p><p>“You sure do know how to tease me baby.”  </p><p>Shanks grabs hold of Benn’s shoulders, rocking slowly, not in any kind of rush to chase the heat that’s already coiling up in his stomach.  </p><p>“Why don’t you just hurry up, I’m tryna watch tv here.” Benn spits, going back to the television. </p><p>The redhead swallows back a moan, fingers tightening in that shirt. He wants to rip it off him, trace every crease of muscle with his tongue, feel it jump under his teeth when he latches on. He always tastes the best when he’s under the younger, immobile only because of Shanks’ ministrations on his body, but his eyes never give away that lust.  </p><p>It’s what had attracted Shanks to him, how Benn purposely disregarded him like he was nothing but a piece of withered paper. He held nothing interesting enough to capture the man’s attention, unobtainable it seemed, but Shanks lives for that thrill almost as much as he lives for him.  </p><p>He’s brought out of his thoughts by tobacco, the smoke rolling over him like cashmere, each fine particle of soot kissing his face. Shanks’ mouth drops open, moaning without shame at the act, hips stuttering.   </p><p>“Hold out your hand for me.” Black orbs take in his own, only enough to witness Shanks’ hand turning upright for him, “keep this here.” </p><p>Benn’s words are a loving caress that turns into icicles breaching skin when he taps the cigarette, ash flowing down like petals onto Shanks’ palm.  </p><p>“Make sure you don’t drop that.” </p><p>And then he’s left to his own devices. Sitting on top of a man that has more power than any mere mortal, making a trinket out of the redhead. He’s never shown how much he’s adored him until this moment right here, giving Shanks nothing at all, but it’s enough to have his cock twitching, biting his bottom lip to hide his desperation.  </p><p>Shanks’ movements are <i>sloppy</i>. Hips constantly faltering every time that burning red eats up the stick between dainty fingers, grey clouds billowing over him, lifting him up. He’s never felt so free. Placed here as a tray meant for powdery residue, matter that remains after burning, but Shanks could light it back up again. He could defy gravity if that’s what Benn asked of him. </p><p>“<i>Benn</i>.” </p><p>Benn’s lips set into a thin line and Shanks imagines it’s because of his talking, the low whine that seeps out of his throat. He’s leaking, knows if he looks down he’d be able to see an embarrassing wet spot forming on the fabric, but it just spurs him on more.  </p><p>Shanks pictures Benn standing high above him, booted foot pressed on his chest, tapping the fragments of love along his flesh. He grows desperate for it, angling his hips to drag the length of his member on coarse fabric. He spreads his legs wider, Benn grunting in disapproval at jostling his other thigh. Shanks doesn’t have it in him to feel regret, it just feels so fucking good. The depraving act of being neglected, an object, rutting on Benn’s thigh with his legs spread obscenely.  </p><p>He doesn’t have to gaze in a mirror to know how debauched he looks. Shanks can feel it all with every drop of sweat cascading down his forehead, lips slick with spit dripping out countless moans, his fingers clawing at the fabric on Benn’s shoulder.  </p><p>“You’re really gettin' into this huh?”  </p><p>“Feels <i>good</i>-” </p><p>“I’ll bet with you humping my thigh like a bitch in heat.” </p><p><i>Fuck</i>. </p><p>Shanks bites his lip to hold in a whimper, nails digging into clothed skin. Benn leans forward just enough to where his breath is grazing the shell of his ear, bumping the redhead's hand in the process. No doubt it was on purpose. It makes him stiffen his posture; hand frozen in midair to not spill the dust. </p><p>“Is this supposed to please me? You think I like being used like this?” Benn murmurs, a dangerous glint in his tone. It’s low and rumbling and making the smaller man tremble.  </p><p>Shanks mewls when Benn grips his jaw, callused fingers sinking into bone, jerking his head up. He’s finally rewarded with his lover's attention again, eyes lazily taking him in, just as relaxed and calm as ever- the complete opposite of Shanks. A trail of smoke hazy in his vision.  </p><p>“Is this even enough for a slut like you?” Benn retorts and Shanks <i>snaps</i>- </p><p>“<i>Fuck me</i>.” </p><p>Benn’s grin sends sparks flying under his skin much like that burning ember, an inferno.  </p><p>“What was that?” All nonchalant, digits piercing him. </p><p>Shanks follows the sweeping of his other hand, lips fitted around the cigarette, pulling in smoke. He has the desperate urge to feel that sizzle, desire blooming on his skin once again because of the ragged circle. </p><p>“Want you to fuck me Benn.” Shanks mumbles, falling pliant as the heady scent blows past him, enveloping him in a blanketed fog that nearly has his eyes rolling back.  </p><p>“Ask me nicely, I don’t think you deserve it just yet.” Benn eyes the bud coming to its end, a semblance of interest glowing in his eyes.  </p><p>Shanks is putty in his hands. Would ask for the necessity to breathe if that’s what pleased Benn, beg for the will to keep living just to have more of that small roll of nicotine giving his life substance.  </p><p>“Please, fuck me Benn, <i>please</i>.” Shanks breathes, leaning into the touch on his jaw.  </p><p>“A needy little bitch like you can do better than that.” A soft caress to his pulsing point, “can’t you baby? I wanna hear you <i>begging</i> for my dick.”  </p><p>Benn’s hand clenches around Shanks’ throat, eyes lighting up at him suddenly gasping, and he just squeezes harder. He’s never felt anything more pleasurable. The words, his touch, the way he feels larger than life before him. Shanks’ lungs scream for reprieve, heart clattering against his chest, wheezing out incoherent words. He’s never felt more alive than in this moment, the tendrils of oxygen leaving him with each press of those digits against slick skin.  </p><p>He waits for it. </p><p><i>Craves</i> it. </p><p>And then Benn is giving him life. Hand loosening, leaving Shanks strung tight, vision blurry as air flows back into him.  </p><p>“So pretty, go on and tell me what you want.”  </p><p>Oh so giving. Shanks looks through bleary eyes at devoted irises. Dark enough to swim in, to drown in, sucking him in like a particle of light consumed by black holes.  </p><p>“Want you inside of me,” Shanks’ voice is a low rasp, barely even heard, but knows Benn hears him as if it’s his own, “wanna ride you Benn, I’ll make you feel <i>good</i>.” </p><p>Shanks chokes back a moan when his fingers curve around his neck again, zoning in on Benn’s other fingers casually pinching the bud. A speck of lone burnished ash falls and his heart sinks into the pit of his stomach at the crackle on his skin. Shanks’ back arches and Benn just applies more pressure. His body overwhelmed at the fuzzy feeling of floating on clouds, the flames of hell licking his palm. Tears slip past his eyes, but even that feels <i>exquisite</i>. </p><p>He welcomes the salty taste of tears enveloping his lips, drenching streaks down his cheeks.  </p><p>“Take my dick out.” </p><p>Benn’s fingers drum along his skin, once again caught up in the act of breathing, another flame branding him. Shanks slaps his hand down on the bigger man’s chest, blood shooting straight to his cock at the sweet burn, grey smeared on white, his other hand working through shaky fingers at popping open the button to his jeans.  </p><p>Shanks whines pathetically when Benn’s hand moves away, raising his shirt up with one while the other dips past the band of his sweatpants, humming in appreciation at what he finds.  </p><p>“Already got yourself loose for my dick, hm?” </p><p>Shanks nods, biting his lip as the rough digits smear through the lube on his hole, his task at hand forgotten.  </p><p>“You really are an easy little <i>bitch</i>.” Benn croons, two fingers driving inside of him.  </p><p>Shanks’ head rolls back, mouth wide open around a wanton moan. His fingers aren’t much thicker than the redhead’s, but goddamn does the older man know <i>exactly</i> how to play him. Pumps them in shallowly, then deeper, scissoring them apart until Shanks is riding back on them.  </p><p>“Keep going just like that,” Benn urges, yanking his sweatpants down, hastily wrapping his hand around his cock.  </p><p>Shanks could orgasm just like this, ass split open, member being stroked with twisting jerks, thumb digging into the slit of his weeping head.  </p><p>“My pretty little slut, you want it so bad.” </p><p>Shanks might die if he doesn’t get it. </p><p>A meticulous drive of blunt nails on his prostate has his mind going blank, sucking in a sharp breath, body writhing and welcoming the release simmering under golden skin.  </p><p>“Go on and put it in,” Benn drawls, “let me fill you up baby.” </p><p>Shanks has never moved as fast as he does than in that moment, that split second when Benn’s slick fingers slip out of his asshole and he’s grabbing the older man’s cock by the base. Raising up on his knees, Shanks watches Benn’s face, still so beautifully expressionless when he impales himself on his cock. It’s always like this, walls feeling stretched thin but sucking him in like Benn was made for his ass.  </p><p>Shanks’ eyes flutter shut, head knocking forward at each inch of his member until he’s fully sheathed inside of him. <i>Nothing</i> can compare to this. Be better than Benn's grip on his skin, the scent of cigarettes and sex mingling in the air, such a heady concoction.  </p><p>“Come here baby,” Benn hums, splaying his palm between Shanks’ shoulder blades to pull him forward, “let daddy take care of you.” </p><p>Shanks’ sigh turns into a drawn-out moan when Benn grips his ass, lifting him up until his cock is nestling against his hole just to drop him back down. He picks up an easy rhythm like that, fondling the cheek of his ass, keeping Shanks pinned to his chest as he constantly fills him up.  </p><p>“Stunning,” Benn grunts, chin hooked over the smaller man’s shoulder, “you were made to take my dick, look at how you swallow me up.” </p><p>Shanks grapples at his shirt, toes curling when he picks up the pace, how Benn so easily bounces him on his length. He’s rendered speechless, mind solely focused on the string of dirty taunts leaving his lovers lips and his own accompanying moans. It’s a filthy little orchestra, one that doesn’t slow to a halt but gradually increases, the crescendo reverberating through his entire being and Benn is the center of it all. The pillar that’s holding Shanks together before he picks him apart. </p><p>“Does it feel good baby,” there’s a smile in that voice, can see the vicious curl of it in his mind’s eye, swooping butterflies low in his stomach, “rock back on it, show me how much you fucking want it.” </p><p>Shanks does as he’s told, rising on quivering knees, swiveling back down. He does it until he feels an ache in his muscles, a sharper twinge in his stomach, coiling up and spreading with each drag of Benn’s cock. </p><p>“<i>Benn</i>, fuck- you're so-” </p><p>“I’m so what,” Benn lilts, slapping his ass in quick succession, one blow after another that warms Shanks up better than any fire can, “<i>so big</i>.” </p><p>Shanks should feel humiliated at the mocking words, but instead he nods his head fervently, eliciting a groan out of the other when he clenches around him. Benn drags his hand up and firmly grips the red locks, wrenching his head painfully, back arching at an exhilarating angle. He can feel him in all depths, to the way he’s gazing intently at him, using his hair as leverage to fucking <i>wreck</i> him.  </p><p>“Love, <i>oh</i>, love you inside of me.” Shanks moans, eyelashes fluttering at the tip of his cock brushing against his prostate, “<i>right there</i>.” </p><p>Fuck. Fuck he hopes Benn doesn’t stop. It feels so goddamn good. The loud squelching, that satisfying smack of skin on skin, the snubbed-out fire still sizzling his flesh and tobacco high in the air. It’s all too much- fills Shanks up with words he could never explain even if he were given the chance to.  </p><p>“Like that big dick splitting you open, huh?” Benn yanks his hair harder, neck aching, throat constricting around a whine, “I love how fucking desperate you look.” </p><p>And Benn is just so keen on giving, jostling a hand between them to grab hold of Shanks’ cock, dragging out a wail when he pumps him quickly. There’s no pattern to it. It’s just his lover easily bringing him to release, thick cock speared inside of him, pressing in earnest on that bundle of nerves.  </p><p>Shanks’ face is caked with spit and tears, cheeks blotchy with red, but he welcomes his orgasm with the wicked flick of a rugged palm. Fingers <i>squeeze</i> the underside of his cock deliciously and Shanks comes hard, shaking uncontrollably as he spills between them, but Benn keeps him in place, rutting his hips up until Shanks believes he might melt away from all sense of the universe. He’s pliable in his grasp, lets himself be used because <i>this</i> is what Shanks was made for.  </p><p>He was sculpted just for this man to take and take and <i>take</i>. Not caring in the least if he’s giving Shanks anything because he already gifts him with so much. There’s nothing but a low buzz in the pit of his stomach, over-sensitivity ebbing away the edges of his vision, but he sings with each push and pull. Throat rubbed raw, but then Benn is swelling up, long hairs tickling his chin when the older man crashes into him. Lips graze hot over his neck, nipping at the skin, smiling against him when Shanks sobs. </p><p>“My sweet angel,” Benn murmurs, grunting now with each slam, once and then twice.  </p><p>Shanks loses all semblance of time when his lover spills deep inside of him, hot and slick and making his eyes roll back when he ruts himself to completion. As soon as Benn releases his hold Shanks slumps forward, feeling so thoroughly used, both of their chests puffing up to intake air.  </p><p>It’s hot around them, and reality crashing back when a loud commercial comes on. Shanks forgot the television was even on and for some reason that makes him laugh. </p><p>“So much for you tryin’ to watch tv.” Shanks muses, voice gravelly after such ministrations. </p><p>“You don’t ever know when to shut up.” Benn gripes, fingers clamping down on Shanks’ waist when he goes to move up, “you’re gonna stay right here.” </p><p>Tone just as threatening as the blunt of an ignited cigarette, smoldering eyes lighting him up. </p><p>“I want you to stay just like this until I get hard again. I’m not done using you yet.” </p><p>Shanks is sure Benn meant for that to sound like a punishment, but he’s never heard anything more delightful in his life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I'm a very big advocate for the daddy kink movement, but I never once pictured it being opposite until I wrote this fic. Like Benn finding it extremely pleasurable calling himself daddy. I think that's so hot. The thought didn't come to me until I was tagging this, so I'll have to delve deeper into that.</p><p>I've been saying this a lot lately, but I'm really liking trying new things out. Usually I would just stick to rough smut, but I like putting on paper (so to speak) the things I find appealing. It's something that I didn't think to do until I started writing for this fandom, so I really hope you guys have been liking it ^ . ^</p><p>Also, Benn using Shanks' hand as an ashtray. I'm just going to tattoo that across my forehead</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://eloha.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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